


whisper

by justdoityoufucker



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:14:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24365638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justdoityoufucker/pseuds/justdoityoufucker
Summary: The first petals appear three weeks after they return from the Land of Waves, the day after the Chuunin Exam announcements.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Comments: 12
Kudos: 252





	whisper

The first petals appear three weeks after they return from the Land of Waves, the day after the Chuunin Exam announcements. He knows it’s Iruka before he even gets his mask down to spit out the camellia petals into one hand, after the confrontation, after Iruka found him that morning and apologized, asked to make it up to him.

_How in the hell_ , he blindly thinks as he crushes the petals between his fingers, body-flickers in the general direction of his apartment. A chuunin, a _teacher_ , and the kindest, most selfless person Kakashi has ever met, damn him. Two other jounin in the stairwell disappear as he stomps up the stairs, lets himself into his apartment and drops the crushed petals onto the kitchen table. He walks back to the bathroom, pulls his mask down and wipes his hand across his mouth, trying to get the almost sugary sweet taste of the flower off his tongue.

It won’t do to dwell on it, and in any case he can’t. There’s too much to worry about with the Exam, with making sure Sasuke in particular doesn’t do anything stupid. He hardly ever sees Iruka, anyway. It’s a self-solving problem.

-

Oh, he’s fucked himself over in thinking that the problem will solve itself. When has any problem in his life solved itself? Never. That’s when. If he were more motivated he would make a clone and have it throttle him but he’s not so he’s going to instead lay on his bed in absolute misery.

First it was having to ask Iruka to cover for him when his team made it to the tower in the Forest of Death, because he was helping the Hokage with something. Then it was Iruka finding him to ask where Naruto was—he’d missed a planned ramen dinner in his training with Jiraiya.

And _then_ , it was at the Hokage’s funeral, where Iruka was entirely too quiet from where he stood with a hand on Naruto’s shoulder. Near enough Kakashi that he had to stop himself from doing something stupid, like touching him. But he can’t stop himself once the kids are gone, once it is just him walking with Iruka down the empty, mournful streets with no true direction behind their steps. The silence between them stretches, comfortable and comforting.

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi finds himself saying.

“For what?” Iruka asks. He sounds curious, but a little muted. Not the usual energetic Iruka-sensei, but Kakashi understands.

“You were close to the Hokage.”

Iruka sighs, tips his head to look at the grey, clouded skies. Their pace slows. “I was,” he says, “but I learned long ago that people I am close to will inevitably leave, some way or another.”

Kakashi knows that, as well, but it’s a little heartbreaking to hear Iruka say nonetheless. They’re both orphans and they’ve both lost more than just their parents; pain is intimately familiar to both of them. “It still hurts,” Kakashi says, lightly touching Iruka’s shoulder.

Iruka pauses, looks at him, and after a moment he smiles a small but genuine smile. “Thank you, Kakashi.”

-

Everything seems to get worse, as far as his health is concerned. Kakashi knows he could just break ties with Iruka, consequences be damned, but for once—

—for once he allows himself to be a little selfish, even if it’s to his own detriment. He views Iruka as a friend, and Iruka seems to view him as something of a friend as well. Naruto’s absence has made that developing bond between them even stronger. It doesn’t help that Naruto’s letters, regularly sent form his travels, are addressed to both of them, so they end up seeing each other far more often than they ever did before.

Part of it is also stubbornness. He’s well aware that both of them have lost many people in their lives, and he doesn’t particularly want to lose anyone else. And—well, what with everything that happened with Mizuki, and then Naruto leaving, he doesn’t really want Iruka to lose anyone else, either. Few people have gained the teacher’s trust, and Kakashi cherishes the fact that he is among those few.

Kakashi always knew love was painful. His entire childhood was a lesson in that; he just wished, for once, that life would let him be happy. If not happy, at least _normal_.

-

The letters from Naruto arrive at a regular enough schedule that after about six months, Kakashi finds himself also in a schedule. He isn’t on longer missions much, since Tsunade has him tapped for assassinations and not infiltration, so every other Saturday he finds himself at Iruka’s small house in his mostly-unused kitchen. For all that the teacher is one of the most put-together people in Konohagakure, he can’t cook worth a damn.

It’s nice, and if Kakashi is being honest with himself it’s more than just nice. Not just to be with Iruka consistently, but also to cook for someone else and spend time with someone else. Even _Gai_ starts to notice the effects that Iruka has on him. It is kind of obvious, but it’s still embarrassing to hear Gai say “You seem happy,” when they’re at the bar. At least they’re in a private room, but Kakashi drops his head to the table and has to swallow the sweet taste down.

“Aren’t I always,” he deadpans back once he knows he can breathe without coughing.

Gai has that sparkle in his eye that means he’s going to launch a monologue and there’s nothing Kakashi can do about it. He resigns himself to blocking it out while downing the rest of his awamori and pouring himself another glass, at least until Gai says something about “a youthful comrade for you” and his arm jerks, splashing a little of the alcohol onto the table. Thankfully, Gai is too busy doing some strange interpretive dance to notice how red Kakashi’s face is.

He swallows back petals again, clears his throat. Gai doesn’t know, nobody knows, and nobody will know. He’s fine with the way things are, and if it is making him happier, all the better.

-

“We should celebrate our youth with udon! Tomorrow, after a competition!” Gai bellows as they stagger out of the bar much later that night.

Tomorrow is Saturday, which means dinner with Iruka. “I can’t,” he says, waving his goodbye. “Plans already. See you.”

Gai yells something about laps around Konoha before disappearing into the night. Kakashi heads toward the dorm, pausing in an alley on the way to choke up some of the petals he’d forced down during their time at the bar. He’s _fine_.

-

It’s after a year and a few months of Naruto being gone when Kakashi runs into Anko at the market. It’s not uncommon for them to run into each other, but this particular time she corners him outside of the butcher’s, looking bored but curious.

“You’ve been hanging a lot with Iruka,” she says.

“And…?” Kakashi asks. He can’t tell where she’s going with this, but he has the pork cuts he needs and he really wants to leave.

“Oh, nothing, I’m just surprised that you of all people would have anything to do with him,” she says. Owch, that kind of hurts; he can’t really blame her, though. Anko shrugs, accepting the wrapped packages that the butcher slides over the counter to her, “Hey, he’s happy. That’s all I care about. It better stay that way, Hatake.”

She excuses herself, and Kakashi tells himself that it’s a reasonable threat from Anko regardless of reason, even as he coughs.

-

He’s waiting with Gai for a debriefing from Tsunade on Akatsuki when the worst pain he has ever felt hits him. It isn’t just his stomach or throat that hurts, but his entire chest and neck that feels like it has been gouged out and set aflame.

He can feel the tickling sensation in his throat that means he’s going to cough, and cough up what must be full flowers. He can’t just excuse himself, not when Tsunade is still finishing up necessary paperwork, but he can’t _stay_ , not when he can taste blood and that sugar-sweet of the flowers in his throat.

Gai’s still next to him; he taps him on the hand, signs ‘need, leave, now’. That earns a look of concern, but Gai nonetheless nods. Kakashi doesn’t hesitate, but body-flickers out, directly to his apartment while ripping his mask down as he gags, spits blood into the sink. Petals follow, the yellow and red stained copper, then clumps of whole flowers, leaves, hard bristles of stalk. His throat feels raw when it’s over, and the taste of blood lingers like a stain.

He feels too warm all of a sudden, too cocooned and stifled. It takes far too much effort to open the window, strip off his vest and shirt, and slide down to the floor against the wall across from the mirror and sink. The exhaustion hits like fist to his gut, trying and failing to overpower the pain in his throat and stomach.

“Stupid,” he says to himself, voice harsh and rasping. The thud of his head hitting the wall distracts from the pain in his chest, however momentarily.

_I should just tell him_ , the logical and exceptionally stupid part of his brain mutters.

“Hell no,” Kakashi murmurs in reply, letting his eyes close. “ _Hell_ no.”

_Vulnerability in the face of emotions is not always a bad thing_ , that stupid part adds. “Or I could just tell Tsunade and have her deal with it,” he whispers. Removal is always an option, even if it means losing most of his stronger emotions. He’d be the same, just—muted. Extremely muted.

“Maybe that would be nice,” he whispers, pressing his hands to his face.

-

When he blinks again, it’s dark outside, but the bathroom light is on and someone is standing next to the sink. Oh, god, he hopes he doesn’t have to try and explain himself to Gai—

“Really, Hatake?” Tsunade’s voice is soft. But it’s not her usual sarcasm, nor worry. Just tired understanding.

He looks up. She’s holding a perfectly formed higanbana, its petals darkened by dried blood. There are white camellia petals scattered on the floor, dotted with blood, and for not the first time, Kakashi wonders why he’s let it continue for so long.

“How long?” she asks, lets the lily gently fall back into the sink.

His throat seizes for a second, and he’s afraid he might pull more flowers up. Deep breaths. “Two years,” he finally manages to say, and he can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed or ashamed or anything other than exhausted to his very core.

Tsunade makes a noise, and he can’t tell what that means as she picks him up like he weighs nothing more than a wet kitten. He’s having a hard time keeping his thoughts together, as it is, and he mostly just feels heavy, like he wants to sleep. Tsunade is saying something as she body flickers them somewhere much brighter, but he can’t quite make it out.

Doesn’t sound like she’s talking to him, anyway; he lets himself settle back to sleep.

-

His throat doesn’t hurt as badly. That’s the first thing that hits him. The next thing is that Tsunade’s face is very close to his and she looks somewhat furious, and he’s thankful that nothing is actually hitting him. But then her expression softens a little as he blinks rapidly, trying to focus on his surroundings. “You’ve really done it this time, Hatake,” she says, pulling away.

Oh, the hospital. Great, as if Tsunade finding out was the worst thing that could happen, he’s now stuck in the hospital where more than just Tsunade probably knows. He just hopes that nobody saw her dragging him in.

“And I’ll have you know that you owe me,” she adds, inspecting her nails. “Shizune knows, but to everyone else you’re in because of a bad chest infection. You have two options.

“One,” she holds up a finger, “you tell whoever it is about these feelings and allow this problem to heal naturally. Two,” a second finger goes up alongside the first, “you allow me to remove the roots. That isn’t a decision to take lightly for either of us, but it is an option. In either case, healing will take some time. I have no doubt you have considered it on your own, but you need to make a decision. Now.”

-

The walk to the Academy is a familiar one, and Kakashi gets there almost unconsciously. It’s late enough in the afternoon that the other teachers are likely gone, but he knows that Iruka likes to get as much grading done at the school before he heads home for the evening.

And he’s right; Iruka is alone in the teachers’ shared workroom. And, for the first time in probably two years, Kakashi doesn’t feel the familiar clenching in his stomach thanks to Tsunade’s intervention. The pain is still there, but it’s muted. She said unless he did something especially stupid he’d be fine for a couple hours. Do it quick, he tells himself, like ripping off a bandage. He swallows; his mouth still tastes sweet, like flowers and blood.

His footsteps alert Iruka to another’s presence, and he looks up from the papers he’s reassembling into a stack. “Kakashi! What are you doing here?” Iruka looks confused, but the confusion is quickly replaced by what seems to be happiness. Kakashi’s heart feels like it skips a beat at that.

Maybe he should have some hope, even if he scolds himself a little for having it.

Iruka’s expression drops a little as the silence stretches and Kakashi steps forward, closer to his desk. “Sorry for interrupting,” Kakashi finally says, and _wow_ he hasn’t been this anxious in years.

“Are you,” Iruka cocks his head, looking a little concerned, “alright? You don’t look too good.”

“Yeah,” Kakashi says, too focused on the task at hand to actually give a proper reply to the question, “Are you free right now?”

“Yes? I just finished grading.”

“Okay,” he steels himself. No point sugar-coating anything. Ripping off a bandage, he reminds himself. “I need to tell you—I am in love with you. I—I’ve been in love with you for a while.”

“You need to—,” Iruka frowns, then his eyes widen and his cheeks redden, “you—Kakashi?”

“I mean it,” Kakashi says, and the thought of Iruka now rejecting him is turning his stomach a little sour. Oh, maybe this is what Tsunade meant by something especially stupid. Thinking about it.

Iruka’s eyebrows are pinched, “Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

“Huh?”

“I thought it was just me,” Iruka says, and now he looks up and he has a smile on his face. Kakashi might actually be hallucinating. He pinches himself, and that earns a snorted laugh from Iruka. “Kakashi, I feel the same.”

Complete, utter relief. Suddenly his legs don’t really want to work, and his stomach is doing something weird that doesn’t involve flowers. “Kakashi?” Iruka’s voice brings him back to the workroom, and he realizes that his legs really have stopped working and the only thing keeping him from sliding right to the floor is Iruka’s arms around him.

“Uh. Could you,” he pauses, “help me back to the hospital?”

“The hospital?” Iruka slides an arm around his back, hefts him up, “what happened?”

Ah. Explaining will not be fun. He didn’t think of that. Luckily, or maybe not, he doesn’t have to explain just then, because he passes out.

-

“Well,” Tsunade pops the plugs of the stethoscope out of her ears, lets Kakashi pull his shirt back down while she notes something on her clipboard, “your lungs sound fully healthy and there’s no trace of any plant matter in your respiratory or digestive tracts. With this you can be cleared for active duty and take longer missions; I’ll have Shizune file everything tomorrow. You’re still on leave for another week, but start preparing for your return.”

Kakashi nods. He’s been out of active duty for nearly two months, and the lack of work has really begun to chafe.

“You shouldn’t develop flowers again, but if you think you might be, do _not_ wait and come in to see me,” she points a pen at him, which is somehow threatening. Or maybe it’s the unspoken threat of what she may do to him if he doesn’t follow her instructions. “You’re free to go, Hatake.”

-

It is a Saturday, so Kakashi is going over to Iruka’s house. Though even if it wasn’t a day when a letter from Naruto was coming, he’d be going over anyway. His apartment is getting a little depressing to be in, and he doesn’t particularly like being alone if he can instead be with Iruka.

It’s easy, being with Iruka.

The weather is chilly, as he walks through the streets of Konoha. Kakashi doesn’t mind it, but by the time he actually makes it to Iruka’s house his hands are cold and he knows his nose and cheeks are red under his mask. The lights inside the house are on, so he lets himself in, hangs up his coat and heads straight for the kitchen.

He has the tonjiru and rice cooking by the time Iruka appears, and takes a break from the stew to find pickles and put some fish in the grill. He’s almost more comfortable in Iruka’s kitchen than his own apartment at this point. It’s kind of astounding how quickly he became that comfortable, but after they’d talked while he was still in the hospital, it doesn’t really surprise him. After all, it’s easy to be with Iruka.

A hand on his shoulder startles him. “Did it go well with Tsunade?” Iruka asks, reaching past Kakashi to get dishes out of one of the cupboards.

“Cleared for duty,” Kakashi says, returning to the stew.

“Good,” Iruka says with a sigh.

There’s silence as they finish up dinner together, a well-practiced ritual. Only when they’re seated with the food does Iruka speak again, his feet tapping Kakashi’s under the table. “You worried me, there; I’m glad you’re fine. At least I know you can handle yourself in the field."

Kakashi doesn’t really know what to say to that, but Iruka is definitely right. He reaches across the table, takes one of Iruka’s hands in his own, squeezes it.

“Thank you,” he says, and Iruka squeezes his hands in return.

**Author's Note:**

> it's been a while since i wrote something new! guess quarantine is good for some things  
> @shortgoblin on twitter, as always


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